I. Tea-master
You've probably heard this tale before, but please bear with me.
A tea-master was strolling through Kyoto when he bumped into a ronin on the busy street. He apologized profusely, of course; but the swordsman, like many who lack honor, had filled himself with vanity instead. As he raised his katana to slaughter the hapless man, a sudden whim took his fancy: drawing his unblooded wakizashi, he slapped its hilt into the master's quaking palm. "Meet me by the gate at noon tomorrow," grinned the ronin, "and we'll have some sport. Otherwise I'll hunt you down."
By a stroke of what we (who cannot see the Pattern) must call fortune, the tea-master's house... (read 2209 more words →)